


You Still Catch My Eye

by serohtonin



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Angst, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Infidelity, M/M, RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-03
Updated: 2012-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-26 17:23:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/652652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serohtonin/pseuds/serohtonin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally inspired by the song “Last Christmas.” The title is a lyric from the song. The story’s not really Christmas-y other than the primary events taking place at a Christmas party. </p><p>Disclaimer: This story is entirely fictional. It never happened and I’m not implying that it did. It is a product of my imagination. I do not own Chris, Darren or any other people mentioned herein except the OMC.</p>
    </blockquote>





	You Still Catch My Eye

**Author's Note:**

> Originally inspired by the song “Last Christmas.” The title is a lyric from the song. The story’s not really Christmas-y other than the primary events taking place at a Christmas party. 
> 
> Disclaimer: This story is entirely fictional. It never happened and I’m not implying that it did. It is a product of my imagination. I do not own Chris, Darren or any other people mentioned herein except the OMC.

He arrived at the cast Christmas party a little late. Everyone was in high spirits from not having to work the next day, and maybe high on some spirits of an alcoholic nature, too, already. Even though he’s on the arm of his new guy, blond, tall, intelligent, nice enough, he spotted Darren. Darren’s eyes rake over Chris, and then his companion, with a sneer if Chris isn’t mistaken.

His friend looked different somehow as he swallowed some red liquid from a plastic cup, even more tired than usual. The hazel of his eyes lacked the sparkle that Chris is so accustomed to seeing and he already has scruff growing along his jaw. Darren looked away, got a refill from acting bartender Lea.

But Chris doesn’t have time to linger over the thought as he’s pulled into a conversation with Dianna, who’s politely introducing herself to the other blond.

Except he does linger.

He smiled and nodded at the both of them, but kept glancing over at Darren.

He remembered last year’s party where he spilled the contents of his heart after too much of Lea’s “Christmas punch,” that was actually just Kool-Aid and vodka with a little cinnamon and nutmeg. Feelings he had contained up until then, ramblings about how lovely and cute he thought Darren was. Then Darren grabbed his jaw and kissed him desperately, messily, with tongue and teeth as if he were drowning and Chris was his air, but pulled away with an, _“I’m sorry. I can’t.”_ Chris didn’t ask why as he held Darren to his chest and he let the older man carry on about how he loved his work, that being crazy busy was awesome but he missed the semi-anonymity he used to have, how he had to be more careful of everything he said and did, how all his friends were miles away and even if they were in L.A. he never got to see them.

They hadn’t talked about the kiss since then, so Chris did his best to forget about whatever more- than-friendly feelings he had. After all, Darren had rejected him and he didn’t want to relive that torture. Chris wondered why, though, when word got around the cast that he was dating someone, Darren seemed to avoid spending time with him outside of shooting, blaming a busy schedule whenever Chris asked him. The younger decided to believe it because Darren had worked himself into the ground as long as they’d known each other and probably even before that. Chris didn’t want to think it was because of him or that Darren had an issue with any relationship Chris wanted to have. He couldn’t think about it that way; couldn’t cling to the dangerous shred of hope that maybe Darren might feel jealous. He’d never move on and be happy if he entertained that notion.

Besides, shouldn’t Darren be the one to say something after all this time? He was the one who said he couldn’t. If he changed his mind, he should speak up. But he couldn’t _what_ , exactly? Couldn’t kiss him again? Couldn’t be with him? Then why was Darren looking at him like he broke his favorite guitar, or ran over his cat, as if he was the one whose heart was stomped on?

Chris felt this inexplicable pull toward Darren, as he often did, as if there were a thread attaching his heart to his feet, willing him to move forward. He needed to know what was wrong with Darren and besides, he would always care about him as a person, romantic feelings or otherwise.

Chris shuffled across the room, through the raucous crowd of fellow cast members and a few random people who looked vaguely familiar and were probably boyfriends or girlfriends or dates, toward Darren.

“Hey, are you alright?” He surveyed Darren’s lithe, slumping frame. “Darren?”

“I’m good, I’m good. Fine, actually. I’m great, _just great_ ,” he snapped back and straightened up, venom in his voice.

He knew that Darren repeated himself or rambled when he got drunk or upset and could tell from the tone of his words that something wasn’t right. “I’m going to ask you again. Are you okay?”

The elder turned away from Chris and moved to the other side of the kitchen island-turned-bar, grabbing the bottle of tequila and a shot glass. He proceeded to pour a drink. “I told you I’m good. Why wouldn’t I be? Want some?”

“No, and you shouldn’t have any either, not when you’re like this.”

“Like what, Chris? I told you, I’m fucking _fine_.”

“Clearly,” he replied sarcastically. “Then why aren’t you looking at me when I’m talking to you?”

“Haven’t you seen me in the past twenty minutes? Looking at you is all I _can_ do,” Darren sighed.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Nothing, Chris. Nothing.”

“Look, if you have a problem—”

“Yeah. You know what? I do actually. It’s you.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s been you for a while, okay?” Darren’s eyes finally met Chris’ briefly but darted over his shoulders quickly. “But you’re here, you’re happy. Forget I said anything.”

“Darren, you tell me _I’m_ your problem and then you tell me to forget it? How can I do that?”

“Because, just. Fuck. We shouldn’t be talking about this right now.”

“Then when? If not now, then when? Because you haven’t talked to me at all lately.”

“And there’s a reason for that.”

“Which I am _trying_ to get at if you’d let me, Dare.”

“Leave it alone,” Darren warned.

“No. No, I won’t. What did you mean, ‘it’s been me’?”

“I don’t want to see you hurt, Chris.”

“That’s not an answer. Stop evading me.”

“Go back to your date, or your boyfriend, or whoever he is. Let this be.”

“I can’t.”

“You can and you will, okay?”

“You are impossible, Darren. God,” he huffed exasperatedly, turning to leave when Darren caught his wrist.

“I’m trying to be respectful, Chris. Please.”

Chris’ eyes narrowed. Darren couldn’t be saying what he thought he was saying, his eyes pleading, for what Chris wasn’t sure. Could Darren have realized that he wanted Chris now that he saw him with someone else? No, not now, not when Chris had worked so hard this past year to punch down whatever emotions he had toward this man that weren’t friendship. Those feelings that were threatening to well up to the surface at the mere suggestion of Darren possibly, _finally_ , wanting more than what they had. No, the implications of Darren’s words had to be all in his head. They had to be.

 

The blue-eyed finally spoke but his voice came out in a soft whisper. “You… _Darren_. Really? Oh my God.”

“Chris,” he answered with solemn, shining eyes, his hand dropping from Chris’ wrist. “Your, your boy over there. Better watch him. I think he’s getting a little too cozy with Naya.” His voice seemed uncharacteristically shaky despite the attempt at humor.

“Darren, don’t.”

“I already did.”

“He’s nothing to me.”

“Chris…”

“He should be, but he isn’t. He’s great, he’s wonderful, but he’s nothing, as cruel as that sounds. He could be something but he isn’t because he’s not you.”

“What do you mean?”

“What do _you_ mean? Because I can’t do this if you’re not clear about your intentions. I can’t put this out there and take it back and pretend again. I can’t.”

“We should go some place quieter, okay?” Darren once again grabbed him, by the hand this time, and dragged him out to the balcony.

As soon as the sliding glass door shut, Darren spoke. “I’m sorry, for a lot of things. I didn’t want to tell you like this.”

“Go on,” was all Chris could trust himself to say. He still felt the charge of Darren’s hand in his, even though they no longer touched.

“I want you to be happy. I really do. And I thought I couldn’t give you that. I wanted to but I didn’t think I could. I wasn’t sure, and I didn’t want to lose you if anything happened between us because I just couldn’t—I mean, I could be friends with other exes, but you—and then that guy. I thought I was too late and—”

Chris interrupted before Darren could say anything more and captured his lips in a fierce kiss. Darren, shocked at first, didn’t kiss back but he soon melted into the warmth of Chris’ touch, leaning up to get a better angle. They parted, both panting, Darren’s hands on Chris’ waist, Chris’ hands on Darren’s cheeks. “You’re cute when you’re babbling. I think I understand. But don’t you think I could’ve made that decision, that you’d be enough for me? I’d take whatever you could give me.”

“But you deserve better.”

“You’re right. But I want you anyway,” he smiled, his thumbs rubbing under Darren’s eyes.

“Don’t settle, Chris, not for my sake. I mean it.” Darren smiled back but his eyes didn’t crinkle like they usually did.

“You are so dense, aren’t you? What did I just say? I wouldn’t be settling. It’s been you for a while, too, you idiot.”

Darren pulled away, putting space between them again, and cast his eyes downward. “It’s not that simple.”

“Isn’t it, though?”

“Chris, you’re with someone. I can’t—”

“Then what is this? What are we? We can’t keep dancing like this. I can’t, you just said you can’t. I tried. I thought I’d be okay with it, but I’m not. We’re going around in circles here, Darren. Please.”

“I don’t want us to start like this.”

 _Us._ Those two little letters, normally just arbitrary symbols applied to other people, but when Darren used them in reference to Chris and himself, Chris’ heart stuttered. They could be an ‘us.’

“We’ve already started. _This_ ,” Chris motioned between them and clutched Darren’s upper arm, “is something already. It always has been. Let me worry about the collateral damage in there. I can handle it.”

“I know, but I can’t. I can’t let you do that.” Darren’s face looked so sincere and broken, but Chris had had enough of this push-and-pull and was about to break himself, with being so close to this thing he wanted so badly and then getting denied yet again.

“Fuck you then. I’m giving you what you want, right now. Just take it. Take me, damn it,” he nearly shouted, his voice rising in pitch and cracking at the end.

In an instant, Chris found himself pressed between the wall and Darren, his friend’s eyes looking dark and predatory. “Shit. You can’t say stuff like that and not expect me…” he trailed off, mouthing at Chris’ neck.

“Good. That’s,” his breath hitched as Darren sucked at the crook between his neck and shoulder, “sort of what I was going for.”

He started to unbutton Chris’ shirt, hands skimming underneath the hem, “still…bad idea,” he paused, his mouth following the newly exposed skin.

“Please, don’t stop,” Chris responded breathlessly, gripping Darren’s curls, not to urge him on, but more to remind himself that this was actually happening, to anchor them both in this moment.

“Tell me what you want,” Darren breathed against his skin.

“You. Just you.”

“Okay.” Darren squatted and his fingers brushed the bare skin above Chris’ belt. He looked up at Chris through his eyelashes and licked his lips.

Suddenly there was a loud laugh on the other side of the door. Even in their lusty haze, they recognized it as Lea’s.

Darren’s hands hovered over Chris’ belt buckle.

The door opened to her giggling and stumbling out, “Heyyyyy!”

Once she took in Darren’s stance and Chris above him, her eyes widened. The elder man rose to his feet quickly and cleared his throat. Chris froze and felt his cheeks growing hot.

“Oh, oh, sorry. I’ll just…Pretend I wasn’t here. My lips are _totally_ sealed. Bye. See you later,” she whirled away with a dramatic wink.

Lea’s little interruption served to remind them where they were, on her balcony, outside of a party, where any one of their friends, or even Chris’ sort-of boyfriend, could happen upon them.

“This…we still shouldn’t.” Darren’s words didn’t match his actions though, eyes still pinpointing Chris’ lips and his body inching back into his space yet again.

“Yeah, okay,” Chris answered, though he was unsure what he was saying ‘yes’ to. _‘Yes this is totally okay because I’ve wanted it for so long’_ or _‘yes, okay we shouldn’t.’_ It was probably a bit of both. The one kiss from earlier could be written off as a mistake in his own head, to justify why he kissed one guy while casually dating another, even if he knew it wasn’t. He also knew it wasn’t right to continue further, because that guy at the party who was with him was a person, just like him, a person who Chris would be hurting. Despite not having feelings for him, this was unfair to everyone. Chris was leading someone on. He’d be a cheater and Darren would be his accomplice. Not some random partner in crime either, but one who had feelings for him, however complicated they were. And maybe Chris even loved Darren. A twinge of guilt hit him then, for not speaking to Darren about this sooner and dragging an innocent man into this mess, but between the heady rush of Darren’s closeness and the relief of his own year-long (well, longer, if he were honest) pain of unrequited feelings becoming realized, he couldn’t bring himself to care enough to stop.

Their lips met once again fervently. Darren grabbed the back of Chris’ neck, reining him in impossibly closer. Chris flicked his tongue out across Darren’s lips and was met with a groan so he pushed further into Darren’s mouth. Soon, their hands were on each other’s asses and their erections brushed against each other.

Chris pulled away to catch his breath. Their foreheads pressed together and the words tumbled out before he could even process them, “Can I touch you, _please_?”

Some heavy breathing filled the silence, then a, “God, yes.”

Chris palmed Darren through his pants and found Darren bucking up into his hand. “More, Chris. Fuck.”

He unzipped and unbuttoned Darren’s fly and pulled him out of his briefs. “So good,” he moaned as Chris worked him over. “Wanna taste you though.”

“Yeah?” The pace of Chris’ hand quickened and his own cock twitched at the unexpectedness of Darren’s statement.

“Yeah.”

“Tell me,” he whispered into Darren’s neck, “what you would do.”

“Everything, but first I would,” he broke off into a moan, “I would just admire you, once you were naked. I’d kneel in front of you and examine every detail, every inch of you, because I’d never want to forget. I’d touch, only lightly, because I’d want to make it last. Then, finally, I’d suck you off, pay attention to what you like, what noises you make, how my name sounds when you say it in that moment. Shit, Chris.”

With that, he spilled over Chris’ fist and both of their torsos. He kissed Chris, rough and dirty, to stifle his own cries. Darren took a step back. He surveyed Chris’ body.

“Oh, fuck. I am so sorry.”

The elder took off the now-dirty t-shirt he was wearing on top of a thin long-sleeve shirt and cleaned Chris’ chest.

“Don’t be, Dare.”

Chris pulled him in for a kiss, sweeter and less desperate than before, slow and sensual. Darren threw his shirt down and his hands settled around Chris’ waist as Chris zipped him back up. Chris’ hands floated up to Darren’s hips. He pressed his hardness against Darren’s thigh. “Oh, _oh_ ,” Chris groaned while he rutted into Darren. He screwed his eyes shut as he felt his release. When he opened them, he found Darren staring at him with what could only be thought of as awe, but the look disappeared as soon as Chris spotted it.

Darren’s hands fell away from Chris. “You should go.”

“Darren.”

“Get back to the party.” Darren bent down to pick up his shirt. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Chris turned away, his hand on the door. He turned his head toward Darren, eyes searching his face with a sober look that said _this isn’t over_.

Chris slipped back into the party and made his way toward the bathroom, feeling gross in more than one way. His pants were sticky and uncomfortable and now he was a cheater. Despite the circumstances, he knew that he had broken the trust of another human being. He had never cheated on anything, had never let that happen. Not even when that kid who sat next to him in the fifth grade begged to copy his spelling test and promised he would give Chris an extra chocolate milk.

He slid against the wall and silently sobbed for what he just did, for how good it felt, for how badly he wanted it to happen again. He had to end it with Tall, Blonde, and Gorgeous right away. But first he had to regain his composure.

He took a few deep breaths, wiped away the few tears that had trickled down his face, and walked back into the living room. His companion sat on the couch, drink in hand, a little glassy-eyed.

“Hey beautiful. I’ve been wondering where you were. Let’s dance.” He pulled Chris into his lap, too drunk to either notice or care that Chris’ pants were soaked in the crotch and he probably smelled like sex.

“ _That_ is not dancing. Up we go,” Chris grabbed his hand, aware of the charge that was absent, unlike when he held Darren’s hand earlier.

He half-heartedly danced near the guy he had come to the party with, absently sneaking glances around the room to figure out where Darren was.

Of course, he was right where Chris had found him at the beginning of the night: in the kitchen near the makeshift bar, this time chatting with Mark.

Their eyes caught and Darren didn’t smile at him, didn’t sneer, just stared and swallowed around nothing, then turned to the counter behind him and refilled the empty cup in his hand.

Chris turned his head back toward his boyfriend (for lack of a better term; that word felt too serious, attached too much meaning to the relationship, especially now), who draped himself all over Chris. “Y’know what, Christopher? I think…” The last three words came out a little slurred and jumbled together but Chris thought he heard _Iloveyou_ after that.

Chris realized he was thoroughly fucked, both physically and emotionally. People said things when they were drunk and didn’t really mean them, right?

 _Right_ , like he did when he told Darren last year he might have a crush. But that was different, wasn’t it?

Wasn’t it?

Well, yeah, because he and Darren were never dating and had grown into friends who spent a lot of time getting to know one another. There was never the expectation of something more.  
“I think, we need to get you home, Mister,” Chris finally replied, addressing his dance partner, whom he stopped looking at halfway through answering. “You, just sit for a couple minutes while I make the rounds with my goodbyes.”

The other man reluctantly sat back down when Chris lightly pushed him onto the sofa. “But I wanna be on you, not on this couch. Ooh! Maybe I will be. Okay. I’ll wait here.”

Chris said bye to some of his fellow cast members, some of whom he didn’t even say ‘hello’ to, but he figured he should at least let them know he was here.

He found Lea on a swiveling stool in front of the kitchen island, spinning herself around.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, dear.”

Lea paused and turned toward Chris when she heard him. “Well honey,” she stood, grabbed Chris’ wrist, and whispered into his ear, “I don’t think it’s a good idea that you brought someone to this party when you’re clearly in love with one Darren Criss.”

“I’m tired and I don’t want to get into this right now. I’m leaving, Lea.”

“But I bet you want to get into Darren, don’t you? Oh wait, unless you already did. Tell me, tell me, tell me!” Her voice was still hushed, but clearly excited.

“You’re really drunk. I’m not talking about this.”

“I’m serious about not telling anyone. I mean it,” she continued, suddenly less hyper, “if you really need to talk, you can trust me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I love you, y’know. No matter what,” she kissed him on the cheek. “Bye, Chris.”

“Bye, Lea. Love you too.”

He figured he should avoid Darren, but this was a night for doing what he shouldn’t apparently, plus Darren was still talking to Mark, and he didn’t want to be rude to the latter on account of the former. He found them both in the corner of the kitchen, laughing.

Chris tapped Mark on the shoulder. “Um, sorry I didn’t say ‘hi’ earlier, but I’m actually leaving.”

“Man, seems like you just got here. Great to see you, though.”

Mark hugged him quickly, which gave him a view of Darren, who looked positively wrecked, and not in a good way. He appeared even more bleary-eyed than when Chris had first seen him.

When Mark finally pulled away, Chris spoke.

“Goodbye, Darren.”

He looked at Chris, took another sip of his drink, but didn’t make eye contact when he said,

“Goodbye, Chris.”

“Not for forever, though, right?” He was hoping Darren knew that he meant that they would discuss what happened and get to some better place in their friendship, relationship, whatever it had become now.

“Sure,” Darren shrugged and went on sipping his drink.

As Chris walked away, he heard Mark say, “Uh, of course it’s not forever. We’re back to work next month.”

So, Darren played the indifferent card now, but Chris knew it was just a front. They both didn’t want their acquaintance outside of work to end. The only thing Chris wanted to end was a thing with some guy he didn’t even care about.

 

Once Chris had brought his _whatever-he-was_ home and then driven back to his own place, he texted Darren.

 _I’m sorry_ , it simply stated.

 _For what?_ Darren answered ten minutes later.

_For forcing the issue. We both could have handled it better. I’m ending things with him in the morning, I swear._

_Don’t do that, Chris. Not for me._

_I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for me. I can’t keep stringing along some guy when I only want you._

_Okay._

That’s it, just ‘okay’? Generally Darren was much more vocal, even in textual form. Chris wondered what it meant.

 

The next afternoon, fresh from his breakup ‘date,’ Chris knocked on Darren’s door. It turned out the guy he had been seeing was really drunk (no surprise there) and that he didn’t even remember saying anything remotely similar to ‘I love you.’ He took it pretty well, considering they hadn’t been dating very long. He understood and didn’t ask for a reason, probably just figured they weren’t clicking. They agreed to keep in touch, though Chris wasn’t sure how that would work out.

Chris couldn’t wait any longer to see Darren, even if it was improper etiquette. Bad manners were moot at this point, anyway, what with the cheating and all.

He knocked several times before the door opened to a sleep-rumbled Darren, rubbing his eyes.

“Ahhh, the light! It burns! This better be good. Oh, Chris.” Darren sounded a little more serious when he noticed who his guest was.

“It is, actually,” Chris smiled. “Let me in, please.”

“Always.” Darren let him pass and closed the door.

“It’s over.”

“I think I need some coffee.” Darren walked over to his kitchen. “Wait, what?”

“With him. It’s over. Be with me. We don’t have to be… _boyfriends_ or whatever. Just see what happens.”

“O-okay. Yeah, okay. Sounds nice.”

“That’s it?”

Darren went over to his couch, where Chris had taken a seat. “No, I know I could have handled all this better, but I was scared, and last night wasn’t some drunken thing. I meant what I said and I would very much like to continue, so, yes, of course.”

“Shut up and kiss me, you babbling idiot.”

Darren obliged. “So, does this mean we get our happily ever after?”

“That remains to be seen, Disney freak.”

“Okay, I’m good with that.”

“Does this mean you’ll stop being obnoxious and trying to fight whatever this is?”

“Yeah,” Darren beamed back at him.


End file.
